Tonight, after work, at 7:30, I host a drop-in space at the library. I bring a random collection of art supplies, all those bits and pieces I still haven’t used, and with whomever shows up, we just make art. It’s called Art Space.

I know I like structure and planning too much. I hold onto my ideas until I’ve worked them out in my head before they ever become real. I build them up until they can’t possible become real. And if I’ve been doing that for 20 years, it’s a sure bet there are others like me out there.

Art Space is a place to freestyle, to play, to experiment with new materials and tools. Of course, it’s also a way to clean out my shelves and perhaps meet some people. But like most things we share with others, I’m really doing this for me. It’s an excuse to put down my phone and pick up a brush. Use those canvases I bought last year. Stick stickers without anxiety about the commitment.

Last spring, when I started Art Space, the first night was the first time I had made a zine in more than six months. That didn’t happen because I told myself I should make a zine. It happened because a woman sat down and asked, “How do I make this?”